


All you need is love

by mikimac



Series: The Alpha, the Beta and the Omega [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Mycroft, Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Greg, M/M, Omega John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikimac/pseuds/mikimac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years have passed.<br/>Sherlock returns to London, after having destroyed the organization of Moriarty, but nothing is as if waiting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The return of Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [All You Need Is Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237666) by [mikimac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikimac/pseuds/mikimac). 



> I was asked to translate “Il Grande Gioco” (“The Big Game”), the story I wrote set in the Omegaverse.  
> The story is completed by this story.  
> I'm Italian, I do not work as a translator, so I apologize if there are (as I’m sure) many errors.  
> I hope that the translation is sufficient to enable you to understand the story and to appreciate it.
> 
> The characters are not mine, but were created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and filmed by Steven Moffat & Mark Gatiss for the BBC.  
> This story is not for profit and if it should remember other stories, would be involuntary and I apologize in advance.
> 
> Happy reading!

 

 

Mycroft Holmes was a powerful man, even though he claimed to be just a minor member of the British Government.

Maybe it was true.

Yet, ministers, politicians, businessmen, diplomats, intelligence agents both home and abroad, they felt uncomfortable if Mycroft Holmes was staring at them so cold and severe.

Mycroft Holmes was a man accustomed to seeing shoot anyone who gave an order.

There was only one person in the whole world, not least shuddered in the furious eyes of Mycroft Holmes and not always obey his orders.

That person was a child of nearly two years.

The curly and blacks hair of the child were always messy.

His skin was white and his eyes were of a blue so intense to remember the color of the deeper ocean.

William Sherlock Watson Holmes crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his uncle determined and stubborn:

"Papa!" He repeated, his voice commanding.

Mycroft drew the most terrible of his looks:

"You have to go to kindergarten. - Repeated flatly - Your father will pick this afternoon, when he will end the turn at Bart's. "

William's lips thinned further:

"Papa!" Insisted and accentuated the claim stamping his food on the ground..

Mycroft sighed in exasperation.

William was absolutely identical to Sherlock: stubborn, annoying, persevering and unyielding.

Anthea, who was witnessing the clash of wills between his boss and nephew of almost two years, managed to hold back the smile that was trying to make its way on her impassive lips.

"So I had to talk to John. - Mycroft muttered, surrendering - We go to Bart's from papa. "

Little William jumped, raising his arms and exulted: "PAPA!"

A benevolent smile appeared on Mycroft’s lips.

The baby would become decidedly someone.

**The Return of Sherlock**

 

The morgue of Bart's occupied the basement and the first floor of the building, while the rest was used as a hospital.

John Watson was a doctor and an Omega.

For a year he became the director of the morgue, which showed that Omegas could make a career.

Omega were few who claimed such, once left the Centre.

John Watson was one of them and he was proud.

He was an independent man, who was working and he raised his son, as did many men Alpha or Beta, showing that Omegas were no different from other males of the human species.

When Mycroft arrived at Bart's, he left William and Anthea on the first floor, where the offices were located, and went down to the basement, where there were the rooms of the autopsies and the cold storage.

John felt his presence since he came out of the elevator.

He sensed the smell.

Omega and Alpha are recognized by the pheromones, which each released to attract and keep tied each other.

This was one of the first striking results of the research of Dr. Mike Stamford, about the real relationship between Alphas and Omegas.

Thanks to the support of Mycroft, Mike was able to find funding and the boys, Alphas and Omegas, to be observed in a protected environment, but freer than the Centre to study the interaction.

Mike were coming from the study of outstanding discoveries on what should have been the real relationship between the two species.

Left free to interact with each other, the Alphas had proved sweet and protective of the Omegas, not violent, as many had feared.

For their part, the Omegas not let themselves go to sexual excesses, as many had feared, but could very well to control and manage the cycles of heats.

In the light of this study, the law on Omegas was undergoing heavy criticism.

John stopped to dictate the results of autopsy to the recorder and turned to the door with a smile.

Mycroft entered.

"William forced you to bring him here?" John asked, sounding amused.

"That child is more stubborn than his father. - Mycroft said, angrily - And that says it all! "

John raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mycroft realized what he said and smiled:

"Of course I was referring to Sherlock, not to you. - He pointed - We both know that you are more reasonable than my brother ... sometimes. "

John smiled.

"William knows that you will always do what he ask, for this got crazy. - He explained for the umpteenth time - You should start to tell him some really don’t. Now he is only two years old, but he will grow and he will have to understand that no is no and no one yes said in another way. After all, it should not be so difficult for you. You're used to having to deal every day with men of power and giving orders, manage a child is no more complicated than solve an international issue! "

"Children are not my field, you know. - Mycroft sighed - I don’t know how to reason with them. However, I will train with my men. "

John had put on a white coat on green uniform he used during autopsies.

The two men made their way to the elevator to go upstairs.

"Speaking of men – Mycroft said – Are you not the boss now? You could choose the best times. "

John snorted:

"I don’t like to be that kind of leader. - He said - If I demand that my subordinates do a certain thing, I have to do it myself. So I expect the night shift, just like them. "

The elevator arrived and the two men had entered.

John pushed the button for the first floor.

"However, even without the vagaries of William, today I would pass by you. - Mycroft said - I have to leave for a mission abroad and be gone a bit of time. "

John stared at Mycroft:

"Do you go on a mission? - Asked surprised - It must be something serious, to get away from London. Will you run danger? "

"Oh, you know how these things are. - Mycroft replied evasively - Some risk could always be there, but I'll be careful, don’t worry. "

The doors opened and two men came out of the elevator, walking toward John’s office.

"Can I know what you're going to do or if you tell me, then you'll have to kill me?" John asked between the serious and the facetious.

Mycroft laughed:

"I'm going to recover an agent engaged in a covert mission by a couple of years. - He said - And you know I could never kill the father of my nephew! "

"It must be an important agent for you, if you take a risk to go and retrieve him for yourself!" John exclaimed, more and more amazed.

"Very." Mycroft’s answer was so evasive that John decided not to pursue.

He knew that if Mycroft had meant everything, he would.

"Just promise me to be careful. - John said - William does not have a father, I don’t want to lose even the favorite uncle, although he has not the wrist. "

"I have the wrist! - Mycroft snapped, offended - Only that William does not know!"

John chuckled, but returned very serious when he opened the door of his office.

William started to rush towards his father, but stopped under his stern look:

"William Sherlock Watson Holmes does not misbehave. – John scolded him, gently, but firmly - We have established that you must never come at the Bart's and that when Uncle Mycroft says something it does what it says, not the opposite. "

The child's eyes were fixed on the floor and hands behind his back, a look of guilty sadness on his face.

Mycroft felt a sinking heart and was about to run to embrace him, reassuring William it was all right, when a hand grabbed his wrist tightly, holding him in place.

"Promise me you'll do everything that Uncle Mycroft tells you to do." John insisted.

"Yes, papa." William muttered.

John said no more, and continued to watch the child so severely.

Mycroft was about to blurt out, when John released his wrist, came up to his son, kneeling before him, and hugged him.

Little William threw his arms around his father's neck and leaned his head on his shoulder.

John rose from the ground, holding his son in his arms:

"Did you sleep well? - He asked softly - Did you not make any bad dream? "

"Fine. – the baby replied - No nightmares. I wanted the fairy tale. "

"Tonight I'll tell you two, all right?" John promised.

William had nodded, satisfied.

"Now go to kindergarten with Uncle Mycroft and be a good boy." John added.

The child clutched his father's neck with all the strength he could muster, planted a kiss on the cheek and leaned back his head to his shoulder.

John smiled and decided to accompany them to the car.

They walked toward the parking lot without talking.

John walked down the corridor with William in his arms and Mycroft at his side, while Anthea was behind the two men.

"When will you leave?" John asked.

"Today." Mycroft said.

"Do you know when you come back?" John asked.

"Not exactly, but I should not stay away very long." Mycroft responded.

They had reached the car.

Anthea had risen and John had put William in the back seat, where she assured him with belts.

"You know that Anthea and Steve will always be at your disposal. – Mycroft assured - You can call them at any time and they will always come to your aid. "

"I know thank you. – John said - Be careful and come back soon. "

"Of course." Mycroft smiled.

John hesitated, seemed unsure of wanting to ask the question:

"What the papers say ... - began sounding hesitant - the rehabilitation of Sherlock’s name ... well ... what is it? They really understood what he was wonderful? "

Mycroft still noticed a deep pain in John’s eyes:

"Yes, it's all true. - He confirmed, sounding sweet - Police found evidence of the machinations of Moriarty against Sherlock and they are recovering the memory. Thoroughly investigate this matter is agreed even to Scotland Yard, as Sherlock helped them solve many cases. "

John nodded:

"Fine. - He muttered almost to himself - Well. I am happy. Even for William. He will remember his father head-on. "

"He would do the same. - Mycroft said - I know you did not he would have never allowed to believe the lies about my brother. "

John stared at him with a look almost desperate.

Mycroft knew how much John still felt Sherlock’s absence.

"I'll be back inside. - John sighed, driving the weight was still at heart, every time he thought of his lost love - I need to complete the autopsy. - He leaned toward his son – Be a good boy. See you later."

William planted a kiss on his palm and threw it to his father, greeting him with a huge smile.

John walked back into the building.

Mycroft watched.

The smile had vanished from his lips:

_"If everything goes well and I can recover Sherlock, I hope you will speak to us again."_  He thought.

He got into his car and patted the head of his nephew, with infinite tenderness:

"Soon you will know the other your father, William. Too early. I'm just curious to see Sherlock’s face, when will understand that you are his son. "

The child made a frown, because he didn’t understand.

Mycroft smiled.

Soon the family would be reunited.

And that was the important thing.

The rest would be adjusted over time.

 

 

It had spent a week since Mycroft Holmes had left London, but the man tied to the chains that were holding his arms outstretched, as if on a cross, didn’t know.

The body, thin and white, showed signs of torture.

The jet-black hair and curly, touching shoulders.

A man sitting across from him on the bottom of the cell, looking bored.

Another was standing upright in front of the prisoner and he was beating, to get the information.

"You've been in the navy. – the prisoner whispered, in the language of the torturer - Your bathroom is not working. Your wife will betray you with your neighbor. If you come home now, you gather the knowing. "

The torturer went mad from the cell, running toward the house.

The man in the chair stood up and went towards the prisoner:

"Time to go home, Sherlock." Mycroft Holmes whispered his brother's ear.

"How is John?" the younger Holmes asked.

"He is fine. – Mycroft replied - Now we just go home. Are you ready or want to wait for your friend coming back? "

"I'm ready!"

 

 

A few days later, London greeted Sherlock with gray skies and drizzly.

The black car with tinted windows, walked the streets full of people intent on their commissions.

Sherlock watched and argued.

  1.  Boring. Boring.



"Where is John now?" He asked, as he watched a blond man fast walking on the sidewalk.

"At the morgue of Bart's. - Mycroft replied - He became the director. "

"John is a man in career? - Sherlock joked – Till what time will he stay there? "

"Up to 17" Mycroft said.

Sherlock made no demand on the child, so Mycroft decided not to speak to the son he had had by John.

He had thought long and hard on this issue and decided that John would have been quite shocked to come face to face with Sherlock, do not have to give his brother the advantage of knowing that the child was his son.

Sherlock, meanwhile, he thought he had time to put in order and reach John at the morgue.

That night he will pass in his bed, with his wonderful John.

It was years since he dreamed of returning to his beloved London and to make love with the blond doctor.

That thought had been his main incentive to carry out the mission of destroying Moriarty’s organization and had been a comfort in difficult times.

Finally there were only a few hours and would have re-embraced John.

 

 

It was late afternoon.

John was in the autopsy room four, when he heard the elevator stop in the basement.

It was a calm day and was completing the last autopsy.

All over the floor there was only him.

He thought that some engineer had come down to there to get him to sign some documents that he considers urgent.

He listened absently footsteps approaching and sounded strangely familiar, but continued to stay focused on the autopsy that was performing when he noticed the smell.

The blood froze in John’s veins.

Were little more than two years that he no longer felt that smell.

He resembled that of Mycroft, but it was not his.

It was Sherlock’s scent.

John spun around toward the door and saw him through the glass.

He smiled, happy.

John leaned against the table, out of breath.

He could not believe his eyes.

He  ** _would_**  not believe his eyes.

He had to be someone who looked a lot like Sherlock.

Someone who was making a cruel joke.

However, the man behind the door smelled like Sherlock and this was not possible.

Each and every Alfa  and Omega had his own, to able the partner to recognize himself in all circumstances.

Sherlock went into the autopsy room.

The smile had vanished from his lips and was worried about John’s pale face and the strange expression on his face.

Sherlock had always been good at understanding how John felt, but this time he had difficulty reading.

He looked incredulous, furious and worried.

"John ..." Sherlock murmured, unsure of what to do and say.

The fist hit him in the face, without that Sherlock could avoid it.

The lip was bleeding, but nothing made Sherlock feel worse of the way John was looking at him.

John was furious and felt betrayed.

"HOW COULD YOU! YOU ... "it seemed that John isn’t able to articulate the words.

"I ... now understand that we had to prepare first. - Sherlock tried to justify - I wanted to surprise you ... I don’t think it was a good idea ... I love you so much John ... I've missed you ... "

"DARE NOT SPEAK OF LOVE! – John shouted, completely beside himself - IF YOU LOVE SOMEONE, DON’T BELIEVE TO BE  DEAD FOR MORE THAN TWO YEARS! "

"I did it for you! - Sherlock sais - Now we are safe from Moriarty’s men and we can return to live together, as before. "

"Everything will be as before, hmm? - John hissed, breathing hard - Do you think the time has stood still while you were away? Do you think I held pending my life waiting for a **DEAD’s return?**  "

"Well, I don’t know. - Sherlock didn’t understand John’s reaction, it was not what he had imagined - Mycroft told me that you became director of the morgue ... "

"Mycroft! Sure! - John snapped – Did he say you that I married Greg? "

Sherlock went white.

"It can’t be true. - Murmured in disbelief - You can’t ... "

"Why not? - John interrupted him asked, sharply - You were  **dead.**  Why would I stay connected to the memory of a man who would not return to me, when I could have one  **live**  in my bed? "

Sherlock stared at John:

"I don’t believe you." He said.

The second punch hit him in the nose.

"Don’t you ever see me! - John hissed – You have been dead for more than two years and for me you are dead forever! "

John came out, opening the door to the autopsy room with a furious push.

Sherlock, his face in pain and bleeding, didn’t follow him.

The idea that John had married Gavin, was maddening.

Why Mycroft had not told him?

 

 

John was in a rage and panic and joy.

Sherlock was alive.

Sherlock was back.

Sherlock didn’t know the child or ask him to his son.

He told him to be married to Greg to hurt him, but he would find that it wasn’t true, it was enough for him to speak with Mycroft, to uncover the truth.

Why Sherlock had pretended to be dead for all that time, making him pass through hell?

William!

He had to pick him up before Sherlock got to him and carried him off!

John felt confused, angry, hurt, scared, happy and in love.

He didn’t know what to think about Sherlock.

Is it possible that he had teased that he had lied when he claimed to love him?

John put his hand to the bracelet.

He had not lied.

Then?

He was about to go back to go talk to Sherlock, to have him explain why he left, but John grew up in fear of not being able to distinguish between truth and lies.

He decided to take William from the kindergarten and take him home.

 

 

Molly, meanwhile, had fallen into the autopsy room, looking for John:

"Chief, you siAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" she shouted, dropping the papers in her hand.

Sherlock was standing across the room, his face bloodied.

Molly stopped screaming, realizing she didn’t have a ghost in front of her:

"Sher ... Sherlock ?!" asked almost terrified.

"Of course I am! - Sherlock replied with testily - What you thought I was! John took me to punch. "

The doctor who was in Molly took over the fear and curiosity.

Slip on a pair of gloves, she approached Sherlock and felt his nose, making sure it was not broken:

"How did you think you would welcome, since he believed you dead for two years?" Molly asked, bewildered.

"I thought he would be happy to see me and that he would have kissed me, not punched!" Sherlock complained, in a tone between the pedantic and angry.

Molly laughed softly:

"You were lucky. - she smiled, continuing medication - John didn’t broke your nose. "

Sherlock grunted something, as if it did not matter.

"You really like to live dangerously. - the girl said - You're made to believe dead for two years, then will recur in a morgue, as if nothing had happened, a man who could kill you and make you disappear without a trace. It really is a huge vote of confidence. Don’t you think you could use a little more tactful? Although I know that you have no idea what it is. "

"I love John and I thought that he would have welcomed with open arms - Sherlock muttered, grimacing - Instead, he is comforted quickly, marrying Gary! I have to be his failure to so much! "

"What? - Molly asked puzzled – John doesn’t ... "she broke off suddenly, biting her tongue.

Sherlock became attentive:

"John is not ...? - asked, persuasive - What's wrong with what I said? "

Molly thought for a second, then replied dryly:

"His name is Greg, not Gary."

Molly’s attitude, however, Sherlock realized that it was not the wrong name, but also realized that the girl would not have added another.

It was clear, however, that John had lied and he had to find out what was keeping secret.

 

 

John had to attend to some practice before he can leave the office.

Arrived on the sidewalk, looked around to look for a taxi and to check that there was Sherlock.

John didn’t see him, but Sherlock was hiding in a corner, his hair windblown.

He followed John up to be what established a nursery for young children.

_"His son._  – Sherlock thought -  _Came to pick up his son ... Moriarty’s son._  "

He felt a pang in his heart.

It would have been wonderful if the child was their son.

Sherlock waited, under a light rain, which made the gray afternoon.

He saw John walking out the door with a baby in his arms.

The baby had his arm around his father's neck.

John walked quickly to the waiting taxi.

Sherlock approached him and put his hand on the door before John could open it.

"John, listen ..." he started to say, but stopped.

His eyes had fallen on the child.

The baby had messy curly and blacks hair, with intense blue eyes that looked like those of John.

Sherlock felt a jolt took his whole body.

That child wasn’t Moriarty’s son:

"This is  ** _my_**  son!" Sherlock growled, in a harder tone of what he wanted to use.

John stiffened and turned pale:

"Take off Sherlock, let us go." He hissed, his voice tight.

"Damn John! - Sherlock snapped, furious - How can I talk to you and explain why I had to act this way? I have to kidnap you and tie you up? "

John's eyes became hard and cold:

"You behave exactly like the Alpha you are." John replied coldly.

Sherlock realized he was stringing together a series of behaviors and wrong sentences, which would have removed John from him, instead of him closer.

"Sorry. - He whispered - I will not hurt you. You know that I would not hurt you ever. "

"No, Sherlock, I don’t know. - John whispered, sounding desperate - You've destroyed me, leaving that I believed you dead. I would have sufficed one your word and I would not have suffered the torments of hell. Now I don’t know who you are and what you really feel for me. "

They stared.

Sherlock read a huge pain in John’s eye deep ocean color:

"I did it for you. - He muttered, removing his hand from the door - Because I love you. "

John looked at him for a few seconds.

William had spent a curious look between the two men, but had not said a word.

"Papa?" He said, wearily.

"Now let's go home." John assured him.

He climbed into the taxi and gave an address that Holmes didn’t hear.

Sherlock stood on the sidewalk, alone, to get wet from the rain even after the taxi had disappeared from view.

 

 

The door of Mycroft’s office banged open, slamming against the wall.

He canceled all his appointments, fully aware of the drama that would take place between Sherlock and John.

"Why didn’t you tell me about  ** _my_**  son ?!" The question sounded like a fierce growl.

"I hope you will not be turned to John with this same tone, dear brother." Mycroft sighed, quietly and waving Sherlock sit.

"When did you know that the baby was my child?" Sherlock asked, sitting in front of Mycroft.

"Before you left for the mission. - Mycroft replied  - I made John submit to a series of tests, after his admission to the Centre immediately after your fake suicide. "

"And why didn’t you say anything?" Sherlock hissed furiously.

"You know very well why. - Mycroft said - I told you a thousand times that the feelings aren’t an advantage, but we both know that you don’t listen to me. I must admit that John’s influence was really positive about you, so I'm glad that you're together. If I had told you about the baby, however, you would have made a few mistakes, just to hurry back to John and William. "

"You did it for me?" Sherlock asked, sarcastically.

"Just as you have you launched from the roof of Bart's and killed Moriarty for John. - Mycroft stressed, staring into his eyes - We both acted as best we believed in the interest of the people we love, dear brother. "

Sherlock shifted in his chair, without looking away from his older brother.

They stared for what seemed endless, without saying a word.

Didn’t feel the sounds in the room, it seemed that even London, beyond the windows, was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen between the two brothers Holmes.

"Did he name the baby William?" Sherlock asked, breaking the silence.

"William Sherlock Watson Holmes." Mycroft pointed.

Sherlock tilted his lips in a slight smile.

"He is a beautiful child. - he said proudly - He has the same John’s eyes. "

"And your bad temper stubborn." Mycroft told him, with a half smile.

"John does not want to listen. – Sherlock snorted – He is angry with me and does not want to talk to me.  ** _You have to_**  get him to listen to me! "

"Right now I don’t think to be high on the list of people John likes. - Mycroft said, shaking his head - I'll also note that I lied and he will definitely be angry with me. "

Sherlock stared at his brother with a frown angrily:

"I will threaten him to bring him the baby, if he will not come back to live with me in Baker Street! - Sherlock proposed pedantic - According to the Law on Omegas, Alpha fathers have many more parental rights over the child than Omegas. If I quote him by stealing William, he will be forced to come back to me. Once home, I can talk to him and explain to him. He'll understand that I have always loved him and everything will be as before. What do you say?"

Mycroft looked at his brother, stunned:

"Are you crazy? It would be a stupid move! - Replied, flatly - John would come and live with you, but you could not more to win his trust and would never forgive! "

"You are wrong. - Sherlock said, stubborn - Once back in Baker Street, spending time with me, understand that I love him and he forgive me. We can live all three together, like the family we would always have been, had it not been for Moriarty and his organization. "

Mycroft knew that his brother was desperate, but not relented or persuade:

"Try to steal William from John and you will see it with me. - He threatened - Do it and I will procure myself to John the best lawyer that exists on the streets to keep you implement your threat. "

"Did you put you against me? - Sherlock bridled - I am your brother! And I would do it just to force John to listen to me, not to take away the child. You know I did not I would never hurt him. "

"Sherlock, you have been through so much and deserve to live happy and together, but you have to find another approach, a way to regain John, who will not hate you. – Mycroft advised - You have to know a few things. Meanwhile, the law on Omegas is facing heavy criticism from various groups and will soon be abolished. "

"It seems to me that it is now ..." Sherlock muttered.

"Most important of all, John has risked his own life to give birth to your son."

Sherlock turned pale:

"What do you mean?" He asked, in a faint voice.

"I already told you that when we rushed to the Centre, after your fake suicide, John underwent a series of tests. - Mycroft told him - From the results it turned out that the baby was not in danger, but John did. Too much stress and age not more younger than the previous pregnancies, put his life at risk, especially in regard to the moment of birth. "

"But it was all good, right?" Sherlock asked, anxiously.

"Actually, no. – Mycroft continued - During pregnancy there were no problems, but at delivery occurred complications. William was born vaginally, since John has refused to do the C-section. "

"He was afraid that you brought out the baby, as he had already happened." Sherlock nodded, gravely.

"Exact. - Mycroft confirmed - As I reassured him, a part of John didn’t trust what I said. Immediately after the birth of William, John has had a severe internal bleeding. Mike has saved hum by a miracle, but John was in a coma for a week, struggling between life and death. His heart had stopped as well, for a few seconds. When he woke up, the first word he said was William. To reassure him I immediately took the child. John has recovered quickly and William has always been his reason for living. You have no idea how much he suffered for your death .... "

Sherlock looked away from his brother.

He could have a rough idea of John’s pain.

He himself had felt deeply John’s lack, but he knew that he was alive and that they would rejoin once he had brought to term his mission.

John didn’t have this security.

John had seen him die.

For a moment he wondered how he would feel if, back in London, he found the tomb of John waiting for him.

Sherlock looked away quickly the mind from that thought distressing.

"Last but not least, you can’t force John to come and live with you in Baker Street, because he lives there already. – Mycroft ended - After William’s birth they came back to live at 221B Baker Street, because he seemed to have you near. Sentimental, I know, but it is John. "

"This could be a point in my favor. - Sherlock whispered - We have so many good memories at Baker Street. Will you help me return with John? "

"If you don’t threaten him and not hurt him." Mycroft said.

"Fine. - Sherlock said, getting up - I'll let you know. "

Sherlock left the building, breathing deeply of the air of London.

He would have regained John.

He didn’t know how yet, but would be able to make him understand that he was his life and that they should raise their baby together.

Sherlock smiled.

At the risk of going to John on his knees, he could reunite his wonderful family.


	2. Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock must find a way to win back John's love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter of "The Alpha, Beta and Omega".  
> I must thank all those who have followed this series.  
> You have been so many.  
> When I started writing this story set in the Omegaverse, I never imagined that you would have followed in many.  
> You were fantastic.  
> Thank you very warmly.  
> Thanks to those who have left kudos.  
> As you may have guessed from the title, it is waiting for the happy ending.  
> In the light of what our favorite characters (mostly poor John) have spent, I think you deserve all of a nice romantic ending.  
> Perhaps the characters (especially Sherlock) might be a bit OOC, but it is an Omegaverse, so forgive any inconsistencies.  
> Happy reading!

 

Sherlock stopped to admire the building that housed the Yard, as if seeing it for the first time.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he had missed that gray and severe skyscraper.

Enter that building, it meant to test his talent and his ability to resolve cases in which the police didn’t know where to turn.

Now, however, he was there for help.                            

When he got to the floor where it was the office of Gregory Lestrade, he found the agent’s room in full swing.

Greg saw him through the window and glared at him.

He jumped up from his chair, he threw open the door and shouted excitedly:

"YOU! BASTARD! OUT OF THERE! "

An absolute silent felt in the room and several heads turned toward the front door to see who had provoked inspector’s wrath.

Many eyes barred, being in front of what should have been a ghost.

Unperturbed minimally, Sherlock crossed the room and stopped in front of Lestrade:

"We need to talk about John. - he said in a quiet tone - You know that I'm a sociopath hyperactive, then I'm not interested in public affairs about everybody. "

A flash of anger crossed Lestrade’s eyes, but stepped aside and allowed Sherlock to enter the office, closing the door behind him.

"What do you want?" He asked coldly.

"I know that you are not married with John, then we skip this part and go directly to the one where you tell me how I can regain John’s confidence and love." Sherlock replied firmly.

"What if we passed directly to the part where I'll throw you out of my office? - Greg said, irritated by Sherlock’s arrogance - You've done the trouble and it's up to you to find a way to resolve the situation. In my opinion, John's fine without you, then just tell me one reason why I should help you. Have you a vague idea of what he went through in recent years because of you? Why should I help you get back with him? Because you can tear him apart again? "

Sherlock stared at Lestrade, trying to figure out what he should answer.

It had always been difficult for him to interact with the rest of the world.

John was the only one who accepted him for what he was and who endured him, besides him as a filter with the rest of humanity.

Lestrade was angry.

He wanted to protect John.

He had to find the right answer:

"You have to help me because John and William are my life. - he said in a low voice - We are a family. When I left for my mission, I didn’t know that the child was my son. What I did, I did it to protect John. He will not let me talk, but we love each other. I know. You know yourself. Help me.”

Lestrade looked at Sherlock in the eye:

"You are right. - he sighed, running a hand through his white hair - John still loves you and this is the reason because he suffered so much in these two years when he believed you dead. However, I will not help. You must find a way to get to his heart, but alone. If you want him back in your life, you deserve him."

Sherlock knew it would be useless to insist.

Lestrade would not help him.

Surely it was no use was talking to Mike Stamford, who had never found sympathetic.

He had to find a way to be heard by John.

And, to do it, he had to go to him.

 

 

John was in the kitchen of 221B Baker Street and was checking reports of the autopsies.

After Sherlock’s return, he wouldn’t bring William to the kindergarten and go to work.

As his rational part knew very well that Sherlock would  **never**  have taken the child, a very small part of him was afraid that he was wrong to evaluate him and was taking no risks.

Moreover, he needed to think.

He realized he was reading the same page for ten minutes and closed the file, with a resigned sigh.

He began to observe William, who was playing seated on the living room carpet.

The son looked just like Sherlock, both physically and in intelligence and character.

He was imagining to see them play together, when the phone rang.

The number was unknown:

"Hello?" He replied, sounding puzzled.

"Please don’t hang up." Sherlock’s voice.

John's heart skipped a beat.

"I would ask you to meet William. - Sherlock continued, sounding sweet - I will not take him away, John, let me just see him. He is also my son, after all, and I knew nothing of his existence until I saw him on your lap in. "

John remained silent.

Sherlock waited a few seconds:

"He's beautiful. - Shooting, with a smile – He has your beautiful eyes. "

"Sherlock ..." John sighed, with a veiled threat in his voice.

"Why can’t I say it? - Sherlock asked, sounding surprised - It's true! "

John was silent.

He was trying to stay mad at Sherlock, but he could not very well.

He had always been so, between the two of them.

John was raging, but Sherlock did or said something and anger vanished, like snow in the sun.

Sherlock waited for an answer.

The silence on the line was unnerving.

Sherlock had never had much patience, but knew better than hadn’t to force John.

"It's OK. - John replied, finally, with a whisper - When would you like to come? "

"I'm at the door." Sherlock retorted, quickly.

"What ...?" John thought he had misunderstood, when he heard a scream coming from the ground floor.

John hung up immediately and rushed down the stairs, followed by William.

At the door, John saw Mrs. Hudson had one hand on the door handle and screaming, having before Sherlock rather surprised and disappointed.

"Mrs. Hudson, don’t worry. - John said, sounding sweet – He isn’t a ghost, he is really Sherlock, an idiot who goes around without remembering that everyone believes him dead. "

The woman turned to John:

"You knew!" Snapped accusingly.

"He came to me yesterday. – John said - We haven’t seen and I forgot to come and talk to you. I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hudson. "

The old woman turned to Sherlock:

"Oh, dear, how I’m glad you're alive. As you are thin and pale! Where have you been all this time? Come in, this is always your home! "

Sherlock watched John, who motioned for him to enter.

"Mrs. Hudson, would prepare your famous cookies, while I know William to Sherlock?" John asked, politely.

Only at that moment, she realized the child staring curious three adults.

"Sure. - Answered at once - I will make them immediately! "

Mrs. Hudson came to her apartment, while Sherlock exceeded the threshold of 221B Baker Street, and closed the door behind him.

John was in front of him and William studied them from the middle of the scale, with a serious expression as he remembered Sherlock.

"How about up?" John asked, climbing the stairs and placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

William turned and raised a questioning look to his father, as they walked back into the living room.

 

 

Sherlock stood in the small hall, watching John and William return to their apartment.

It was strange to set foot in that house after two years of absence.

It was exactly as he remembered it.

He climbed the stairs slowly, and came to the living room.

It was much more orderly than when he lived there, but the furnishings were the same.

The wallpaper had been changed and there wasn’t the smile that he had drawn on the wall with the gun.

Sherlock stopped to look around and noticed William, still standing in the middle of the room, who was studying him.

Father and son stared into their eyes, with the same serious and intense expression.

John left the kitchen and watched them for a few seconds.

He smiled.

They were so similar!

"I put water on to boil for tea. - He said to Sherlock - I hope you will stop to drink it. "

"If you wanted to, I could stop forever." Sherlock retorted, turning to John.

The doctor didn’t answer, but went to William.

He took his hand and led him to his chair, leaving free Sherlock’s chair.

John sat down and took William on his knees:

"Honey, you remember I told you that you have another dad, don’t you?" Asked his son.

William nodded vigorously:

"He's up in the sky and watching us and protects us." William said with a smile, as repeating a story that had been told many times.

John blushed slightly, but he didn’t look to Sherlock.

"Already. - He said with a sigh - See, William, never happens, but your other dad is back from us. "

"He came down from heaven?" The baby asked, as if this was a normal thing.

"We could even say that. – John surrendered - Now he wants to know you and make friends with you. You will be kind to your dad, right? "

William looked confused and glanced at Sherlock, who wanted to made a reassuring smile and instead performed in a grimace.

William clung more to John.

"Be nice, Will. – John whispered - He loves you so much. "

He revealed the baby from his knees, took his hand and led him in front of Sherlock:

"Why don’t you show your games to him, while I prepare the tea?" He offered with an encouraging smile.

William gripped John's hand, leaning on him with the body, but the doctor released him gently and returned to the kitchen, where the kettle was hissing furiously.

William followed his father with his eyes and was reassured when he saw that he stopped close enough to him.

He returned, then, to study the stranger who had done so much to scare Mrs. Hudson.

He tilted his head and so did the very tall man.

"My name is William." He said finally.

"I know. – the father smiled - My name is Sherlock. "

"Do you play with blocks?" the child asked.

"Will you show me?" Sherlock said, taking off his long coat and placing it on the couch.

William took him to a corner of the room and showed him the bricks which built the strange forms.

Sherlock sat down on the carpet and tried to understand what they were here pieces of colored plastic, repeating the moves of his son.

John poured the hot water into the teapot, he had dipped the tea and prepared a tray with two cups.

Mrs. Hudson arrived in the kitchen with a plate of cookies and handed it to him.

The woman stopped to look at father and son playing.

Sherlock had a puzzled expression, while William was concentrated in his work.

"They look so much similar!" Mrs. Hudson said emphatically.

John smiled:

"I've noticed it myself." He murmured.

"Will you let him come back, do you dear? - Mrs. Hudson asked, with sweet tone - You are a family. William, Sherlock and you. Finally together, as it should be. You had so much for a desired that he wasn’t dead. Now that he is back, don’t let him to leave. You will be happy. You know it, do you, dear? "

John put the dish with the biscuits on the tray with the tea.

"It's not that simple." He said, sounding sad.

"It is, dear. - the woman said, giving him a pat on the arm with her hand - When you love as you love the two of you, you can overcome everything."

Mrs. Hudson came out and John carried the tray on the coffee table between the two chairs.

"The tea is ready." He said, pouring the amber liquid in the cups.

With a sigh of relief, Sherlock got up from the ground and sat down in his chair.

 

 

It was a strange feeling, to be in the living room of Baker Street, with John and William, to take tea.

It was all so normal and natural, which seemed to be always there with them, not to have spent the last two years traveling the world in pursuit of criminals.

In that room there was a calmness and serenity that enveloped him like a warm blanket.

John handed him the cup and the sleeve of his sweater rose, discovering bracelet that Sherlock had given him as a symbol of their love and their allegiance.

Sherlock stared at the bracelet with his eyes wide.

 _"He still has it!_  - He thought, surprised -  _So I still hope!"_

Sherlock lifted his sleeve and showed to John his bracelet, which he had never taken off.

John gasped, impressed that Sherlock wore the bracelet himself.

It meant that he wanted really to him and that he had never lied about his feelings.

"I understand that you're angry with me. - Sherlock began, sounding more confident - You feel like I've abandoned you and our son, as if I hadn’t wanted to take care of you. But, John, I swear I knew nothing of William. Mycroft didn’t tell me you were waiting for a child to me and I never asked for anything, because I stupidly believed that Moriarty was telling the truth. You had left me and it seemed natural that you did it because you had been impregnated by another man."

"Whether you're an idiot is a fact." John interrupted him, in a serious tone, but there was a trace of a smile.

"Maybe you're right. - Sherlock continued, undeterred by the comment - But I love you and you're my whole life. Now we also have a child and we have to think about him. We are a family, John. You don’t allow Moriarty to win. You don’t let him divide us, now that he has been defeated. I swear I will never leave you again."

The intense blue John’s eyes moved from Sherlock to William, who was still playing.

"Have dinner with me tonight, from Angelo." Sherlock invited him.

John shook his head:

"Mrs. Hudson has the game of cards with friends. - he informed him - Greg, Mike and Molly are on duty. I don’t know who to leave Will. "

"You can leave him to Mycroft, of course. - Sherlock suggested – He could take him at home. "

A flash of anger through John’s eyes:

"Are you assuming that we'll end up back here to make love?" He asked irritably.

"No. I hope that we'll be late, talking about us. - Sherlock said quickly - William goes to bed early, right? And Mycroft always keeps him when you work at night. "

John studied Sherlock’s eyes.

Those eyes the color of clear ice that he had missed so much.

The way he looked, the way ran down his body, the way they were smiling.

"What time?" He asked, finally.

"At eight. - Sherlock jumped - For you to be good, right? I have to go. I must prepare for tonight. Mycroft switch to take William at six thirty. See you later."

Before John could say something, Sherlock stroked William's head, grabbed his coat and flew down the stairs, out the door.

 

 

At half past six o'clock, the doorbell rang of 221B Baker Street.

John opened the door and found himself in front of Mycroft, who smiled pleasantly.

"I came to take Will." He said cheerfully.

John stared at him, a bit angry:

"I'm not sure that going out to dinner with Sherlock is a good idea. - He said, flatly - Maybe it's too early. I should call him and say that I will not go. "

Mycroft went into the house and closed the door.

He leaned on his inseparable umbrella and smiled back to John:

"You're just nervous. - he reassured him - You are afraid to go back Sherlock in your life because you fear that he will disappear again. It will not happen. "

"Do you can guarantee it?" John asked, irritated.

Mycroft thought a moment.

He wasn’t used to manage romantic relationships between people.

At that moment he would rather be sitting a few tables of international negotiations.

It would have been much easier to deal with a threat of war that dinner organized by Sherlock with John.

However, he wanted the brother and the doctor back together.

It was time for his wonderful nephew had a real family.

"No one can put a finger on it for the future, John. - he said, sounding sweet - After all, you have left Sherlock, to protect him from Moriarty, when you found out you are pregnant. I know how much you have suffered from the alleged death of Sherlock, but he did it so that you were safe. I haven’t revealed my brother  that William was his son, because I didn’t want him to run more risks than necessary to get back to you as soon as possible. In short, we all made someone suffer, in this story, but our actions have been dictated by the love we feel for the people who wanted to protect, at any cost. Now that Moriarty and his organization have been defeated, it is time for you to be happy. Don’t deny a real family to William for fear of the future, John. Trust Sherlock, as you always have. He loves you. You love him. Why continue to suffer? "

William showed up at that moment at the top of the stairs:

"Uncle Myc!" Yelled enthusiastic, going down the stairs, quickly.

"Don’t rush the stairs!" Scolded John.

William finished down stairs one step at a time, slowly.

He came downstairs, looked at his father, trying to figure out if he was angry with him.

John ruffled his curly blacks:

"Uncle Myc came to get you. – he said the son, with a smile - Tonight you sleep at home by him. "

Will not exulted, as he would normally, as if he understood that that night was very important for their future, much more than all those spent so far in his uncle's house.

He took Mycroft’s hand and squeezed.

Mycroft squeezed back:

"Say hello to papa. - he smiled happily - There you will review tomorrow morning. "

John leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead.

He will left Mycroft’s hand and squeezed the neck of his father, leaving him a loud kiss on the cheek.

John returned the hug, then took Will’s coat, put it and gave him another kiss on the head.

"Good night my honey. Sweet dreams. "He murmured in a sweet tone.

"Good night, papa. Dreams of gold, silver and diamond." Trilled Will grinning.

John walked  Will up to the car and watched them, while the child waving.

Mycroft was right.

All had hurt someone in that story.

And now it was time that everything was back to its place.

 

 

At eight o'clock, John got out of the taxi in front of the restaurant  “Angelo".

He was dressed elegantly, with a black suit and white shirt.

He turned toward the door and, to his surprise, he saw that it was closed.

John wondered if he had the wrong restaurant or time.

He didn’t know what to do, when the door was opened by Angelo himself:

"Come in, doctor. - he invited him, with a jovial smile - We've been waiting for. "

John entered.

The restaurant had all the lights off, but on each table shone a candle.

Sherlock was standing next to their table, which was the only one prepared, while on the other there was only a candle.

Sherlock smiled:

"Welcome. - he said, in a low tone and deep - Thanks for coming. "

John's heart had accelerated beats the sight of Sherlock.

He was beautiful and he looked dress like the evening in which they had exchanged bracelets, with an elegant black suit that clung him perfectly.

John swallowed hard, to regain some control.

Part of him was ready to surrender unconditionally to Sherlock, desirous only of being in his arms and make love to him.

Another part, however, was upset about the two years of pain he had lived, believing him dead.

That part of him could not forgive the beautiful man, who had abandoned him and broke his heart.

"You must thank Mycroft. - John said, in a firm voice - If I’m here you owe it to him, who convinced me to give you a second chance. "

"I will." Sherlock said, with a nod of the head.

He didn’t care who should thank.

John was there.

Now it was his turn to be able to convince him that he hadn’t made a mistake.

He pulled the chair:

"Please." He murmured.

John sat down and Sherlock sat in front of him.

The candlelight was reflected on doctor’s hair, making them seem almost a halo.

"I can start bringing the appetizer?" Angelo asking, pouring wine in the glasses.

"Yes, thank you." Sherlock said.

Angelo departed, going toward the kitchen.

Left alone, John and Sherlock looked without saying a word, as if an invisible wall had dropped between them.

Sherlock was able to break it down:

"Tell me about William. - asked, drowning in the deep blue John’s eyes - Tell me about the last two years of the life of our son I lost. "

John read the pain of this loss in the depths of transparent Sherlock’s eyes.

With a sweet voice and a smile on his face, John began to tell of pregnancy, Mycroft, Greg and Mike who had made a fool of, with their attention and their anxieties, the difficult birth, which had almost killed him, the sleepless nights, because William had exchanged the night with the day, of the first steps, the emotion felt the first time that their adorable baby called him papa.

Angelo continued to bring food, Sherlock listened, enraptured by the story and sad, because everything John was telling him would no longer repeated and he was aware of he lost forever.

Seeing the sadness grow in Sherlock’s eyes, John tried to snatch a few smiles, talking about the way William could do everything he wanted to Mycroft.

They had come to the cake and John’s heart was caught in a vise of immense pain, because he understood what Sherlock was feeling and he couldn’t do anything to ease his sadness.

"Do you want to dance?" Sherlock asked, suddenly.

John looked surprised:

"Dance?" He repeated, thinking of not having understood.

He turned to the room behind Sherlock and only then noticed that the tables were moved to the center, to allow a couple to dance.

John smiled.

Sherlock was really his utmost to impress him, he might as well accept the court.

"Why not?" He replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Sherlock stood up abruptly and moved John’s chair.

"Do you remember that I am a man, right?" John asked, sarcastically.

"Absolutely yes. - Sherlock said - Let's just cuddle. I did some research and found out that this is allowed in any kind of relationship, even among men. "

John imagined that Sherlock did research on the internet on how best to conquer and wondered what else would expect.

He stood up.

Sherlock took his hand and went to the center of the room.

A sweet and romantic music spread around the room.

The volume was low, not to be intrusive.

Sherlock took John in his arms.

John put his head on Sherlock’s chest and he felt his heart, pounding.

He smiled.

Not only he was nervous.

The song was in the middle, when Sherlock stopped, pulled away from John and knelt before him, pulling out a blue velvet box from his pocket.

Sherlock opened the box and appeared in a white gold ring with a small diamond set in the center.

John's heart skipped a beat.

"John, will you marry me?" Sherlock asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Want to give me an honest Omega?" John asked, between the serious and the facetious, unable to believe what was happening.

"No. - Sherlock said, sounding very serious - I want to make you the man of my life. I lived two years without you. I can’t imagine what you have suffered, but I can tell you that my life without you has been a long and cold gray day, in which the sun didn’t shine and didn’t warm. Bring sunshine into my life, John. Agree to share with me our days, until the end of our days. "

John was speechless.

He knelt down, took his face in his hands and kissed Sherlock passionately and transport.

Sherlock didn’t dare embrace John, even if he wanted to hold him and not leave him more.

When they parted, John leaned his forehead to that of Sherlock.

"I would not come to any conclusions. - Sherlock chuckled - Can I take this kiss for a yes? "

"Yes!" John said, with enthusiasm.

Sherlock put the ring on his hand and looked into John’s eyes, shining with the light of candles and happiness.

"Let's go home." John muttered.

And Sherlock smiled.

His life was finally complete.

 

 

They entered the room they had always shared, their room.

Sherlock looked around and noticed immediately that John hadn’t changed much, even here.

There were new curtains, cream-colored, at the window.

The mattress and pillows were higher, but the rest of the furniture was the same.

Sherlock's gaze fell upon John, watching him:

"I have always liked our room. - He said with a smile - I didn’t change anything because I was trying to keep a part of you. "

Sherlock smiled, took John’s face in his hands and kissed him with passion, desire and gratitude.

John kissed softly, opening his lips and letting Sherlock’s tongue invaded his mouth, as if to regain something he had lost and had fortuitously found.

Hands untied clothes, paraded them, threw them across the room or let them fall to the ground, roughly.

The urge and desire to be one to the skin of the other gained the upper hand on the romance.

For that, there would be time for the rest of their lives.

At that moment, the waiting and the fear of not to belong more had to be deleted, moved away, exorcised.

Their mouths parted and they were about to go on, when John saw Sherlock’s body and froze.

Chest and legs were full of scars that two years ago not disfigured the perfect body of the consulting detective.

John watching them and evaluating how much Sherlock had suffered to protect the people he loved.

Sherlock knew immediately what John had upset:

"They look more ugly than they actually are." He tried to reassure him, but John glared:

"Shut up! - He hissed, with a look that showed anger, fear, grief and despair – I’m a doctor. I know exactly how much you have suffered any sign that you have on the body. I should beat you for going on a mission so dangerous, alone. We should have done together. I'd looked at your shoulders and you wouldn’t have suffered so much. You shouldn’t have ... "

John's voice trailed off.

Sherlock stared at him with infinite love:

"You were already protecting the most precious being in the world for me: our beautiful baby."

John approached Sherlock and began to kiss each scar.

He began by which lay just below the left shoulder blade.

Let small and delicate kisses along the length of the wound, then went to the one near.

Sherlock closed his eyes.

John was sweet, slow and methodical.

His lips brushed the scar gently, as if afraid that white skin was still sensitive and too much vehemence would cause more pain.

Having finished taking care of the scars on the chest at the same height, John moved behind Sherlock to repeat the process with those on the back, which seemed even more devastated that chest.

John’s worth grew and with it the delicacy with which touched Sherlock.

He continued down almost spiral.

Lower and lower.

Turning slowly around Sherlock.

Imprinted in the minds and lips every scar, every hurt.

At one point, John knelt, to kiss the wounds lower.

He was aware of the hard and excited Sherlock’s penis, felt his moans of pleasure and his name whispered with growing urgency.

Sherlock, however, didn’t want to force John to fulfill his excited erection, that demanded to be smug.

He didn’t want to hurry him.

When John believed to have brought sufficient relief to the battered body, he stopped in front of Sherlock and took his penis in his mouth, which had the first traces of semen that moistened the tip.

Sherlock grabbed John’s, tucking in his fingers.

John used his tongue and mouth to made come Sherlock nicely inside him.

Sherlock opened his eyes, looking down and staring eyes in the deep blue John’s eyes, who was smiling.

Sherlock did raise John and noticed his abandonederection.

He walked over to him, letting him put his back against his chest.

With a hand went up to John’s penis, by scrolling back and forth, gently, while his other hand he stroked the soft skin.

Using the tongue, mouth and teeth, Sherlock walked down the neck and shoulders of John, until the doctor came too.

Without waiting, Sherlock made John lie down on their bed, with his back on the mattress, he opened his legs and penetrated him, going into him as he had only dreamed of in the past two years.

John welcomed him inside him with a small groan of pleasure, whispering the name of his wonderful Alpha.

Sherlock completely penetrated John, repeatedly touching the sensitive points, making him arch with pleasure:

"Sherlock ... oh ... Sherlock ..." John whispered.

As he moved into John, Sherlock watched the face of his Omega, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving him, looked at the body of the blond doctor arch and quiver under his thrusts.

Sherlock felt increasingly close to orgasm and saw that John was ecstatic expression on his face.

He closed his eyes and, with one last push, he was in John, causing orgasm also to his beloved Omega.

Sherlock braced himself on his hands, to set eyes on those of John.

"I love you. - He whispered, his voice low and husky - I always have. "

"I love you too. – John murmured - You are everything to me. "

Sherlock took John in his arms and hugged him, enjoying the feel of his skin soft and warm.

Dawn caught them yet embraced.

 

 

It had spent only a week since the night Sherlock had asked John to marry him.

They didn’t want a big wedding, they didn’t need it.

The stir caused by Sherlock’s return would attract too many prying eyes on an event intimate and private, that the couple wanted to share only with people that really matter in their lives.

The officiant had never seen a marriage with so few participants.

There were the spouses, witnesses, the parents of one of the couple with a young child, an elderly woman who looked like the mother of the two men who had to unite in marriage and a young couple formed by a man and a chubby girl skinny, he could not tell if they were together or if they were friends of the couple.

Nobody else.

Yet they all seemed very happy.

Sherlock and John could not take their eyes off of each other.

If they did, it was only to look at the child, who smiled at them excited, trying to escape the grip of the grandparents.

Greg reached the ring to John, who took the hand of Sherlock:

"So ... um ... I had a whole speech prepared, but I forgot. - John muttered, red in face - I never thought that one day I would get married, nor with a man or with an Alpha. Instead, here I am. I'm marrying you, a man, an Alpha. Yet I feel that this makes me a complete person. You saved my life, I've proved that I could love and be loved, as a man, not as an object or a pet. For this, I will spend the rest of my life to repay all the love that you are able to give me. With this ring, I marry you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes. "

John slipped the ring on Sherlock’s finger, staring at him with eyes shining with joy.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft, who gave him another ring.

Sherlock took John's hand:

"You are a wonderful person and I always ask how you managed to fall in love with a sociopath hyperactive as me. - Sherlock said quickly - When I'm with you, I don’t feel at all strange. I can be completely comfortable with myself, because for you I’m not a monster, but a normal person. You listen me, you take care of me and, really extraordinary, you love me. Before I met you, I thought that love was a chemical reaction, but now I know that there is much more. I know that love is affecting your heart and you are my heart. I spend the rest of my life to love you, because only then I will said to be alive. With this ring, I marry you, John Hamish Watson. "

And even Sherlock slipped the ring in John’s finger, who was smiling radiantly.

The officiant watched them with a smirk:

"Now that you have exchanged rings, if there is someone who knows a reason why these two people should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or silent forever."

In the small room it fell silent.

"Uffah, there is still a lot? - Will complained - When can I go to my dad and papa? "

"Soon, honey. - Mrs. Holmes murmured - Soon. "

"For the powers that I have, I declare you married." The officiant ended.

Sherlock and John kissed.

It was the first kiss as married men, but would be followed by an eternity of kisses.

After the ceremony, Will was able to free himself from the grip of his grandmother and flew from his fathers.

John lifted him and Sherlock around the blonde doctor shoulders with an arm in a protective gesture and full of love.

William, John and Sherlock were a family, and no one could ever separate them.

 


End file.
